The Prince
by IsabelleB
Summary: Sebastian was always accustomed to getting everything he ever wanted. The woman he wants now isn’t accustomed to giving in to anyone else’s needs.
1. Another GoldDiggingLifeChanging Stranger

The Prince by IsabelleB.

Another Gold Digging Life-Changing Stranger

Disclaimer: CI is not mine. I got the idea for this story, ironically, by reading The Burning Series. This story is, therefore, the spin from the beginning of that book mixed with the ideas of Machiavelli totalitarianism – weird, right? But I always thought of Sebastian in this princely manner, and I thought it'd be interesting to see Sebastian use those moral concepts from Machiavelli's book "The Prince" in trying to seduce Kathryn. You'll understand when you read the story. I don't own the Prince or the Burning Series.

AN: If this story looks familiar, it's because it is. Yes, this is BebeluvSpikey. I've come back from the land of dead fanfiction to give it one more try. I love Cruel Intentions and therefore I have this unresolved eagerness to tell this particular story and hopefully there are still members to read it. Enjoy and review. I've written about 8 chapters already.

Summary: He was always accustomed to getting everything he ever wanted. What he wants now isn't accustomed to giving in to anyone else's needs.

"_**He who is the cause of another becoming powerful is ruined." – Machiavelli**_

A pair of piercing blue eyes scanned through the endless sea of faces filling the club, and boredom was apparent on his face. Two weeks, maybe more. At this point his memory seemed to fail him. He couldn't remember how long he had been like this; when the days begin to melt together, he had lost track of time. Each night was the same thing. Meet a girl, seduce a girl, and leave her in her own misery. The truth was he was the only one miserable. The monotony of sex: the same thing he had treasured in his youth had become his ultimate downfall. The downfall he now called his life. To say he was bored was an understatement.

He was categorically miserable.

He had hoped a visit to Atlantic City would brighten his spirits but it hadn't. The flock of girls had just made him more pathetic. Now he paid girls for their company. There couldn't be anything worst than that. For the first time in his entire life he prayed.

His only request was an early death.

Something he was sure would happen soon with all the alcohol floating around his stomach. He was on his second bottle. Drowning in your misery took at least four.

"So how'd you meet her?"

Sebastian Valmont looked up at the question and frowned. He really wasn't in the mood for another round of honesty; especially since he had had a powerful round of truth a few hours ago. He found it kind of funny how his life had crumbled in the course of a day. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.

It was karma well served.

Taking a puff from his cigarette, he asked, "Meet who?"

The tall charismatic man finally took a seat beside him. "Well, you're obviously here because of a girl. Who is she and how'd you meet her?"

Sebastian scoffed. "I don't think telling a complete stranger my life story is on the top of my agenda right now."

"It might not be," The brunette said, gesturing the waitress over for a drink. "But you're in the middle of a strip club, looking utterly distressed. So something tells me maybe you should give it a try."

Sebastian looked away, giving his attention back to the stripper on stage. The only thing he wanted to try right now was the cute blonde on stage. "Fine then," the man said with a bright smile which quite frankly annoyed Sebastian beyond words. "I'll guess," he exclaimed rubbing his hands together as if this was some fun interactive game. "Your girlfriend, the one you're so heartbroken over, she's the marry them type."

The blue orbs of Sebastian's eyes clouded with confusion. The man chuckled. "I forget you don't know me. Let me explain myself a little more. There's two types of girls in life, buddy. The type you date and the type you marry. See that girl on the stage, the one with the fake breasts. She's the type you date. You don't take her home to your mother. And you don't plan a future with her. She's just an amusement; almost like a challenge or a conquest. But the marry them type of girl is different. She's little and few between. That's the girl you plan to have kids with. Your girlfriend was that type of girl. Am I right?"

Sebastian didn't answer but the answer was obvious.

"No, no," the man continued. "You were high school sweethearts, in fact. Am I right?"

When Sebastian didn't answer the man took it as a key to continue. "Let's see... And I'm going to go out on a whim here and say that you broke her heart." Before Sebastian had the chance to react, the brunette put his hands up in a defensive matter, and chuckled, "I know. I know. Its very cliché, the guy breaking the girls heart but I think I'm right on the money."

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but closed it immediately. There was nothing to say. He had had the perfect life, it was true. He was rich, handsome, a senior in college with the most beautiful girlfriend imaginable and now what was he? Now -- he was nothing. He had ruined it all for a girl who wouldn't even speak to him. Starring at the man who had bought up all these vile memories, Sebastian's anger immediately surfaced again. "It wasn't like that," he finally voiced. "She knew what she was getting into."

The brunette smiled again and gleamed with sparkle in his brown eyes. "Good. We're finally getting somewhere."

"So how did such a good girl fall in love with a bad boy like you?" The man said jokingly as Sebastian stuffed wads of cash in the underwear of the girl who was currently giving him a lap dance.

He shook his head, and for the first time in months Sebastian laughed. It was real. "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea."

The man laughed as well and then silence followed. As Sebastian watched the blonde female called Candy head off to service her next customer, he passably sobered up. Why was he sharing his secret with this man. A stranger.

He had no idea who he was currently with, besides the fact that he was disgustingly nosy and enclothed in well woven Armani. He wondered why he hadn't dismissed the prying stranger in the first place. Then he remembered when he saw a stunning brunette walk on stage. She held a striking resemblance to his ex; a girl that no matter how hard he tried to forget, would always be apart of him. Kathryn Mertueil had ruined him. And now he didn't care. Nothing mattered now that he had ruined his chances with her. So if an arrogant prick wanted to spend time prying into his business who was he to stop him.

Taking a quick sip of his imported beer Sebastian grumbled, "We were in high school together. Her name was Annette Hardgrove. She was my first real girlfriend. I thought I could never love anyone like I loved her. She was... perfect."

"Then what went wrong?"

Sebastian sighed. "Everything."

Silence lingered once again.

"Not to be impatient," The man sighed, taking off his pricey coat in an effort to make himself at home. "But are you going to tell me the story or am I going to have to guess all night? Because I think I kind of figured it out already. I just need you to confirm the axiom that you call life."

Taking one last inhale of the cigarette Sebastian narrowed his eyes and sneered, "I'll tell you my story. Just wipe that goddamn smirk off your face."

Deception, in general terms, had never been a hard concept for a man like Sebastian Valmont. He loved it (and what wasn't there to love about a superb lie), he embraced it and, in all honesty, he thrived on it. Having mastered the art of deception since the age of twelve, he had used his techniques on every person he had encountered. Everything he needed was given to him, everything he wanted was handed to him and any women he desired fell at his feet. And those who didn't comply, those very few, weren't around to talk about it. All who had laid eyes on Sebastian Valmont had fallen victim to his predatory ways.

At the age of fourteen, Sebastian had wanted a Jaguar. His father, thinking it was a joke, teasingly bought him a Hot Wheels car instead. Sebastian's father no longer found it funny when Sebastian threatened to tell his mother about the older Valmont's secret meetings with his Brazilian secretary. The next day, there was 1956 Roadster for the underage adolescent sitting in his driveway.

On his fifteenth birthday, Sebastian was convinced that his grandfather's six hundred million dollar empire belonged to him. Unfortunately, he had three uncles, two aunts, and his father to share with. Sebastian didn't like sharing. With a little alcohol and the help of his brazen stripper friend, his grandfather's will had been drawn up that same night. By the time his parents had found out about it, the old geezer had croaked, leaving to Sebastian all of his fortune.

Sebastian stopped in front of the steel gate that stretched the length of the sprawling white mansion. Through the enormous front window he could see the partygoers in fancy dress. It was brighter than day inside the ballroom. Limousines waited in line by the entrance to let off their passengers. A row of servants in uniform stood ready to assist them.

These were the wealthiest people in New York City. Taking a deep breath, Sebastian straightened his Armani tux, strode up to the gate, his eyes on the entrance. He began to walk toward the house. From inside the open double doors he could hear laughter, the click of glasses, and the soft music of Dido. These sounds were being repeated all over the town. It was New Years, and all of New York was celebrating with gigantic balls, debutante parties, and wild, noisy street parades.

His piercing blue eyes scanned through the endless sea of faces filling the room, and he was already bored. He had hoped moving to New York would brighten his spirits but it hadn't. The flock of girls here were just as dull as they had been in Europe. The blondes were airheads, the brunettes were boring and the redheads were too willing; everyone was too predictable.

Still, this was a new city for him and he was confident that his boredom would end. His smile remained confident as he handed his coat to the servant and moved into the ballroom.

He studied the young women, such beautiful women, with their straighten hair framing the sides of their glowing faces. Their beautiful dresses swept across the shiny floor. Their voices chimed brightly. Their laughter tinkled like the clink of champagne glasses. As Sebastian started to make his way toward the center of the room, a servant lowered a silver tray in front of him. "Champagne, sir?"

"No, thank you." Sebastian stepped past the servant, his eyes on two young women in silk dresses against the wall. I have more somber business here than drinking. Turning on his most charming smile, he made his way to introduce himself to the two young women.

"Nice dress."

And that's all it took before the two girls were practically fighting each other to stick their numbers down his shirt. He sighed. It would be the same paper he would use to wipe his nose later on.

Subsequently, he made his way across the crowded, noisy room toward the central hall – and then stopped short in the doorway. A wide stairway, its banister festooned with yellow and white daisies, stretched up to his right. And standing on the bottom step, facing him as she leaned over the flowers, was the most beautiful girl Sebastian had ever seen.

She had brown hair, lustrous in the light from the chandelier above her head. Sebastian could see her flashing green eyes, catlike eyes above a perfect, slender nose, dark full lips, high, aristocratic cheekbones, and the creamy white skin of her shoulders revealed above the lace-edged top of her tight-fitting red dress.

A crimson red dress. Most of the other young women had selected pink and white and yellow. This one stood out boldly in her red. Sebastian moved closer, staring intently at this striking vision. Suddenly he realized that his mouth was dry, his knees weak. He wasn't sure if he had the words to approach her. It was a feeling Sebastian had never experienced. The young woman was still leaning against the banister, talking to another young woman, tall and frail looking in a pink satin dress. The two kept talking, seemingly unaware of Sebastian's existence.

"What is her name?" He was so smitten, so stunned by the feeling sweeping over him, that Sebastian hadn't realize he had spoken the question aloud.

"That is Ms. Merteuil," an elderly man with a white mustache replied, eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. "You've been invited to the best party in town and you don't know who the Merteuil family is?"

"Merteuil," Sebastian muttered, ignoring the man's question. "Thank you."

Since the time he was born, Sebastian Valmont been treated like a Prince. He had grown up in a big house on a hill, attended the nation's finest schools, been pampered by his devoted parents and rummaged through some of the world's finest women. He had always gotten exactly what he wanted. And at this moment – there was nothing he wanted more than Kathryn Merteuil.

--

Enjoy? Review?


	2. The Prince And His Needs

The Prince

IsabelleB.

The Prince And His Needs (How Many Kinds Of Principalities There Are)

Summary: Kathryn becomes Sebastian's main concern.

"_**And a prince ought, above all things, always to endeavour in every action to gain for himself the reputation of being a great and remarkable man."-- Machiavelli**_

It was three in the morning, and Sebastian was fucking tired. As he rubbed the bags from under his eyes, he realized he was ascertainably drained, but he just wasn't ready to leave. As he looked over to the stranger, he had frigidly dubbed 'the Armani man,' he knew he wasn't ready to leave either. So they both stared at each other; incisively, at first, then as the minutes past by, more sternly. They were both men of patient virtue, but they certainly didn't have all night.

"So did you fuck Kathryn?" The brown-haired stranger asked, quietly enamored by the younger Valmont's tale. He suspected Sebastian was eager to tell his story as well. A man like Valmont was always eager to share his tales even if they were of his failures. In fact, he bet Valmont wrote down all his thoughts. They were like private photos of the moment, memories too grand to let go of; like meeting Kathryn Merteuil. From what he had heard so far, it wasn't something you could easily forget. And fucking her was, no doubt, a marvel. Thus, the sullen posture of Sebastian told him, that he hadn't had that pleasure, and the Armani man was very good at reading people. "I'll take that as no then."

At that, Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

"You don't have to be here, you know," Sebastian hissed back, his words slurred, as a result of all the alcohol. "You came to me asking all these questions. I was fine all by my lonesome."

The brunette shook his head, disappoint by the lack of progress. "Yeah, and that's how you're going to end up if you don't get over yourself and talk. You'll be all alone."

Sebastian grimaced.

No, he wasn't to be going to be -- he already _was_. He sighed.

"No, I didn't sleep with her exactly," he responded. "At least, not at that point. I didn't even talk to her that night. I wanted to – I just didn't have the right words. And I wasn't gonna fuck it up."

"So you weaseled out?"

"Fuck you," Sebastian garbled. "I don't know what happened."

The stranger smiled. "But I know it angers you. So the true question becomes are you mad at me or are you mad Kathryn?"

"Both," Sebastian grumbled sourly.

"Well, that's life," the stranger shrugged. "I'm not gonna be nice to you simply because these things make you mad. And as for Kathryn...Anyway what happened after you struck out with Kathryn? What did you do?"

"What else could I do? I complained."

--

Failure.

It was the only thought that ran through Sebastian's mind as he whacked the tennis ball with all his strength.

He wasn't accustomed to the word, bearing in mind, the act of failure had never occurred to him. The closest he had ever gotten to failing in his entire life was reaching second base instead of third with his seventh grade girlfriend. And that was his extent of knowledge on the topic of failing. But the subtle repulsion he was feeling in the pit of his stomach told him the sentiment was anything but nice.

The same small word was assailing him just as brutally and swiftly as the yellow tennis ball that bounced back and forth between the tennis court. And it wasn't just a feeling he was getting because he was currently losing the tennis match to his blonde opponent. No, he had a completely different reason. Sebastian, as troubling as it was to say, was distressed by the events of last night. Why? You might ask. Honestly, Sebastian didn't understand the dilemma himself. To anyone looking on, last night had been a complete success for him; especially since he left the party with two beautiful Brazilians on his arm. He had undoubtedly filled his quota of estrogen for the day. Yet, that nagging feeling still remained.

Dropping his tennis rack, Sebastian finally fessed up to the obvious truth.

"What do you know about the Merteuils?" He asked as he watched the tennis ball flutter past his arm.

Blaine Tuttle looked over the tennis net at his current competitor. They definitely weren't what you'd call friends – but they were the closest either of them were ever going to get to one. Blaine arched his eyebrow noticing Sebastian's distraction for the first time.

"The Merteuils?" Blaine grinned and dropped his tennis rack on the floor, definitely interested in the direction of this conversation. Grabbing his bag, they begin to walk towards the dining table awaiting them inside their posh enclosed country club. "Well, they're practically royalty in the United States. If you want to be apart of the social scene in New York, not that I think you care," he reflected, taking a seat and placed their orders with the waiter. "You don't eat, sleep or even fuck without them knowing about it."

"They're also elite players politically throughout LA and DC," Blaine said, eyeing the male waiter as he walked off. "And they definitely don't take image lightly, especially Tiffany Merteuil. She took the family fortune and doubled it. When I was living in California, the family had been worth a couple of billions. At this point I don't know. But I doubt Tiffany would let anything slow her down."

"Well, that history lesson was quite refreshing but I was actually referring to a certain member of the family," Sebastian chaffed dryly as the waiter arrived with their food. "You should know her; sparkling green eyes, nice petite figure, undeniably luscious assets."

"Why, Sebastian. Are you interested?" Blaine asked teasingly between bites of his hamburger.

Sebastian grinned. He had never cared about anybody, but for some strange reason he had always been amused by Tuttle. Always straightforward and painfully honest, he could definitely say Blaine was a breath of fresh air from the common people he called mindless sheep. That is why Sebastian had been delighted to hear Blaine would be leaving California for a semester and attending school here with him. They always seemed to understand each other even if they were reluctant to admit it. "Of course not," Sebastian said with a sheepish smile. "What's her name?"

"Kathryn," Blaine uttered back with a mischievous smile.

"Kathryn," Sebastian recurred, analyzing how the name rolled off his tongue. "What else do you know about her?"

Blaine scratched his head. "Well, besides the fact that she's a total saint, nothing."

Sebastian looked at him skeptically, from his experience, no one was truly a saint. Blaine simply shrugged and replied, "This Mertuiel is very private about her personal life and she's very good at covering up all her tracks. In fact, if she died today, I doubt we'd know about it for at least two weeks."

Sebastian grinned. "Then she must have a closet full of skeletons."

Blaine simply shrugged again.

"Even if she did, no one would be stupid enough to use them against her. Kathryn, she's like," Blaine paused briefly, as if circumspectly deciding whether to share his thoughts with his current lunch mate. The idea appealed to him, putting both Kathryn and Sebastian in the same room was an arousing thought in itself, but he knew it was a dangerous idea all in the same. "She's special," he settled on, "I've never met anyone like Kathryn. Truth be told if I weren't gay, I'd – "

"And this is where our conversation ends," Sebastian uttered, rolling his eyes in the process. Slowly getting up from the table, he asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Just don't go anything stupid," Blaine told him, the request baffling Sebastian, more over his concern than his message.

Sebastian nodded quickly, valuing the man's priceless information but at the same time devaluing the man's condescending advice. Picking up his tennis rack to leave he refused to be worried over some pretty little girl with a nice rack. He shook his head refusing to let Blaine change his mind. He wanted her and that was the end of the story. But it was just as he was about to head out the door, that Blaine's voice yelled the most sweetest reassurance he'd ever heard in his life: "Oh by the way... She attends Manchester."

In that moment, a smile spread across his face. And he was worried --


	3. The Princess And Her Wants

The Prince by IsabelleB.

The Princess And Her Wants (Concerning Hereditary Principalities)

Summary: Kathryn and Sebastian finally meet.

"_**For injuries ought to be done all at one time, so that, being tasted less, they offend less; benefits ought to be given little by little, so that the flavour of them may last longer." -- Machiavelli**_

"Blaine," the Armani man huffed. "Sounds gay."

"Well, aren't you Mr. Perceptive," Sebastian grunted back.

"Hey," he said pulling his hands up defensively. "I was just checking. Besides I think I know him. Nice guy if flaming homo is your thing."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth."

The Armani man laughed. "I apologize. I just wanted to see where your loyalties laid. I like Blaine. He's a very good character. Truth be told if I wasn't taken, I would love to have Blaine –"

"Oh god, deja vu on top of a migraine," Sebastian grumbled, as he rubbed his forehead to ease the impending headache.

He shrugged and replied, "I just thought I'd tell you."

"I never asked, you incompetent prick. Now shut up and let me finish my story."

"Okay," the Armani man huffed, "Since you're so eager..."

--

She smirked.

That was one of the many things he had come to like about her -- the way her mouth would curl into a grin when she thought no one was looking. When she thought no one could see her pure satisfaction at their utter stupidity – or when she felt things were going her way. That grin, the same grin, he had come to love he found was always smug, and always full of self-absorption. She was completely full of herself, and god, did he find it attractive. But watching her right now, seeing that smug grin appear behind the new headmaster's back as she formulated a scheme in that cunning mind of hers, he couldn't have been more fascinated by her.

Her smirk widened.

And as Kathryn Merteuil and the new headmaster headed off in two different directions, Sebastian realized that Kathryn was more than just a conquest to him. She was the ultimate trophy; one he planned to attain even if it killed him. She was just amazing; alluring charisma, sparkling green eyes, amazingly witty charm, and sharp intellect. Characteristics, he never pictured could be compiled together. And as he studied and figured out all the different aspects of her, many questions stirred in his head. She was beautiful no doubt, but there were qualities about her that put her above the average women. The way she maneuvered, the way everyone seemed to flock to her side. She was just -- amazing. And for once in his life Sebastian could admit it wasn't all about her breast, not that he didn't notice that as well.

The righteous schoolgirl image she gave off was definitely a fake. But he found that it made her all the more interesting. She had become his perfect image of imperfection.

He wanted her.

And he was just simply tired of watching her.

Checking attentively as the last person exited the auditorium, Sebastian walked through the backstage stage area expecting with certainty to see Kathryn there. Over the week he had studied her, he had learned that she took smoking breaks between classes. She was there like he expected, silently smoking a cigarette.

She looked up startled at first to see someone there. But then her face scrunched up, and her panic quickly disappeared when she saw who he was. She squinted her eyes in confusion. "Why are you still here?"

He remained tranquil, only to see if his silence would further alarm her. He realized after a few seconds of intense staring that it had not. Propping up against the wall across from her, he pulled out a cigarette before piping, "For someone caught in a dodgy situation, you don't seem to be too worried."

"You're a Valmont," she snickered, "Trust me, I have nothing to worry about."

He took his Gucci sunglasses off his face. "You've heard about me. I didn't know you were that interested."

"I'm not," she rebutted in boredom.

His eyes slowly fell to her curvaceous bosom.

She sighed, blowing the cigarette smoke in his face. "Not in your dreams."

He didn't dream, and he told her as much. His real intentions would more interesting.

She arched her perfectly sculptured eyebrow. "Sex?"

"Yes," he added with a smug grin. "Don't tell me you don't know what that is. Surely you Americans have at least mastered that aspect of life."

Kathryn tried very hard not to roll her eyes. "Of course I know what it is, asshole. My answer is definitely no."

He frowned. "No?"

"No," she repeated in a condescending tone. "Surely you know what no means, you being from France and all."

He smiled precipitously. She had definitely done her research on him. Blaine's warning began to resurface in his mind. "Well," he continued unstirred. "I think my offer is rather generous. The way I see it, we would both benefit from it."

Her eyebrow heightened at the statement. "How so?"

"Well, you'd obviously be seen with me."

"Right, and what twisted benefit would you be getting from this?"

"A different impression on the headmaster since my reputation seems proceed itself. However if I go out with you, the prima bella of self righteousness, I get a chance to prove myself differently, right?"

She stomped out the cigarette beneath her expensive Manolo Blahnik shoes. "Right, and I'm not suppose to think that there's a girl involved."

"There is." And it's you, he wanted to say.

"Then what's the point?" She asked, before quickly adding, "Though I'm hardly interested."

"You'd be helping me. I mean, we could go the whole year hating each other; me fucking you over and vice versa, but where's the fun in that?"

She walked towards him, closing the distance until their faces were inches apart. He could practically feel the sweet air on his face as she whispered: "Actually, I think it's going to be fucking family entertainment. Besides Sebastian I hardly know you, and I doubt my boyfriend would be comfortable with _that_kind of a threesome."

"Boyfriend, huh?" He yelled as she sauntered away. " We'll see about that..."

--

If you enjoyed it, review. If you didn't enjoy it, review.


	4. That Son of A Bush

The Prince

IsabelleB.

That Son Of A Bush (Concerning Mixed Principalities)

Summary: Sebastian finds out the meaning of American Royalty.

AN: I hope you've realized by now that all the chapters will follow the same exact format. That the first half of chapter will always be in the present and second half of chapter will always be set in the past, about fours years ago. Its been a while since I've written so here's a recap of what's happened:

Recap: In the present, Sebastian Valmont has met an inquisitive man that he has nicknamed 'the Armani man'. Sebastian grudgingly decides to share his whole life story with him. In Sebastian's retelling of his tall, we have just reached the part where Sebastian has chatted up our charming Kathryn Merteuil and has decided to win her at any cost. Even though, he knows she has a boyfriend…

_**A prince must have no other objective, no other thought, nor take up any profession but that of war, its methods and its discipline, for that is the only art expected of a ruler. And it is of such great value that it not only keeps hereditary princes in power, but often raises men of lowly condition to that rank.**__** --Machiavelli**_

"So how did you end up in a fight with Pierce Bush?"

Sebastian glared at him. "You know an awful lot about me for you to be a stranger."

The Armani man shrugged. "What can I say? I read the news."

"You mean the gossip magazines. The Enquirer, perhaps?" Sebastian mumbled in irritation. He hated that his life was on display for the entire world to see; hated more importantly that his failures were no longer his to share alone. Once again, he wished it would all disappear – that he could act like nothing had occurred.

But --

"Everything they wrote about, it all happened," the Armani man finished, completing his entire train of thought. He realized, as he continued to guzzle his bottle of beer, that if the Enquirer was responsible for anything, it wasn't for stalking his life. It was for supporting his demented train of thought.

With a sigh, Sebastian nodded back. "Yeah, it all happened – "

The same anger built in him that he had felt approximately five years ago --

* * *

He slammed down the magazine article on Blaine's living room table. 

"THAT SON OF A BITCH!!!!"

"No, no. He's the Son of a Bush," Blaine smiled back adroitly. "But I can see where you'd make that mistake."

Sebastian tried his best to contain his anger, but it was painfully hard when the picture of Kathryn Merteuil and Pierce Bush stared back at him. Kathryn had not lied to him at all. She did have a boyfriend. However, this guy was no average man – no common competitor he could sweep under the rug. He was dealing with American Royal. The Bush Family. A royal family that_ his_ favorite Ice Princess would die to be in. All his plans seemed to fade as the picture of the lovely couple was imprinted further in his brain. "Son of which Bush?"

"Neil Bush," Blaine informed him coyly. He grabbed the Enquirer article back, trying to end his best friend's tortured fixation. "He's the distant and not so well-known brother of George W. Bush. Neil's not the social critter in the family."

"Yeah but he's a Bush no less," Sebastian miffed, before lighting a cigarette to cure his frustrations. For two months he had been chasing Kathryn, she wouldn't so much as look for him. To say it drove him crazy was an understatement. He knew why now. He knew how much she had at stake... "Kathryn must have poured through his hands like butter."

Blaine shrugged. "Maybe."

The horns rose from Sebastian's head. "Blaine, what do you know?"

Blaine shook his head. "Valmont, you have no idea what you're dealing with. You like Kathryn, that's fine. If you want to fuck her, go ahead, but do not think for one second that Kathryn will leave Pierce for you. I don't even know why you insisted on that being the case. You have slept with married women, and that hasn't even caused you to bat an eyelash. So the real question is: Is this a challenge or has Sebastian finally developed feelings for a woman?"

"What do you think?" Sebastian scolded, not sure himself it the question was at all rhetorical. He wanted Kathryn there was no doubt about that, but didn't mean it implied love. He was quite certain that once he placed his body between those attractive thighs of hers, he never think of her again.

But –

He didn't just want to fuck her. What he wanted more than anything else was to ruin her for any other man. Once he had his way with her, he wanted her to crave him – only him. He wanted her to think of him in any endeavor and in every affair. He wanted to break down those icy walls of hers so that he could see the real her. He wasn't sure what he would do with her once that happened but those were his intentions.

And for it to work in his favor, it required her complete and utter attention. Something he couldn't get her to do with a boyfriend. A boyfriend who held more power than him. A boyfriend who would probably kill him for even thinking about his girlfriend. A boyfriend that could potentially deport his ass --

"I think," Blaine continued, trying to break his deep thoughts. "You're taking this challenge too seriously. I can't believe I'm saying this but you're in above your head this time. One thing, I do know about Kathryn is she always goes for the grand prize. She never settles for anything less and the Bush family – that's as big as it gets in America. So even if Kathryn does like you, she's not going to give up Pierce because of it. You'd have a better chance of hell freezing over."

"It already has," Sebastian hissed, referring to the Enquirer article in Blaine's hand. "But thanks for the level confidence, by the way."

He shrugged again. "Well, you asked my opinion."

"Still, I don't think she's as happy with the lovely Pierce as she says she is," Sebastian retorted stubbornly.

"Well, young Sebastian, you've been trying to woe our favorite Ice princess for the last month now, with no success," Blaine threw back mockingly."Now that you've decided you want to continue --What are you going to do next?"

"What do you think, Einstein?" Sebastian retorted as he grabbed his keys from Blaine's kitchen table. "I'll just have to date another girl --"

And the same thought ran through his head the following week as he walked through Manchester Prep aimlessly. He needed to find a girl to make Kathryn jealous. Something that shouldn't have been so fucking hard. Most the school already flocked for his attention. Even with Kathryn's outward disapproval of him, his good looks had allowed him to exist amongst the popular crowd. And oh yeah -- he also had the habit of fucking the female portion of them as well. In the last week, he had managed to fuck all of Kathryn's so-called friend. But it still had gotten him, nowhere.

From that, he realized if he was going to make her jealous, it wouldn't be through her mindless minions.

It would have to be someone new.

Someone she had no inside knowledge on. Someone she could believe held a threat to her status and prestige. Someone who could get under her skin. Someone she thought he could fall in love with --

But where would he find a girl like that?

With a sigh, he took a seat on the bleacher chairs in his overly affluent school's soccer field, and stressed over his appending problem. There were so many girls, but few he knew that could make Kathryn jealous, he thought, as he pulled out a cigarette.

"You're not supposed to do that," he heard a voice call out from behind him.

"Well, thank god I don't follow school rules," he hissed, not even bothering to look up.

"You could get in trouble," she continued, in vain.

"I could," he started, slightly annoyed that this person insisted on bothering him, even with all his obnoxiousness. It wasn't until he turned to her that he re-thought his next group of words. She was beautiful, an golden plum, dressed modestly in her schoolgirl outfit and matching flat ballerina shoes. Her blue eyes still pierced at him from the fact that he had mocked her. She wasn't his normal choice in a female – her modest dressing told him she was uptight, her lack of a smile told him she was too serious for his matured games and her lack of interest in his looks told him she had a potential boyfriend. But she was pretty and the only person Kathryn had shown open hatred to. Of course, latter counting for more, than the predecessor -- Annette Hardgrove is exactly what he was looking for. "With you watching my back, I don't think it will happen."

She arched her brow. "How do you know I'm not some butt kissing senior who plans to rat you out?"

"Well, for starters," he said, as he stood up to approach her. "You're too beautiful to be kissing any headmaster's ass."

Annette snorted. "I guess I'm supposed to take that as a compliment."

"I think you'd like me either way."

"My God," she exclaimed in annoyance. "Are you this cocky all the time or just today?"

"Well, why don't I drive you home," he replied, taking the textbooks from her hands. He took off in the distance of his car, knowing she would follow. "You get to tell me if it's an enduring quality."

She followed in confusion, barely getting time to think it over. "Okay. Since you're so bossy about it --"

One day, he would regret meeting Annette Hardgrove --


	5. Please Kill Me With Your Kindness

The Prince

IsabelleB.

Please Kill Me With Your Kindness (Why The Kingdom Of Darius, Conquered By Alexander, Did Not Rebel Against The Successors Of Alexander At His Death)

Disclaimer: Yes, some characters will use real people's name. It's just for story purposes. The characterizations of these people are false and based on nothing. I'm simply using the names of these real people for plot purpose. The Bush Family? I might get in trouble for that one but it really really helped the story flow.

AN: I hope you've realized by now that all the chapters will follow the same exact format. That the first half of chapter will always be in the present with the Armani man and second half of chapter was always be set in the past about fours years ago at Manchester Prep High School. Its been while since I've written so here's what happened:

Recap: In the present, Sebastian Valmont has met an inquisitive man that he has nicknamed 'the Armani man'. Sebastian grudgingly decides to share his whole life story with him. In Sebastian's retelling of his tale, we have just reached the part where Sebastian has chatted up our charming Kathryn Merteuil and has decided to win her at any cost. Even though, he knows she has a boyfriend…

Summary: Sebastian finds out Kathryn is the jealous type once she convinced that something belonged to her in the first place.

_**People are by nature changeable. It is easy to persuade them about some particular matter, but it is hard to hold them to that persuasion. Hence it is necessary to provide that when they no longer believe, they can be forced to believe...**__**Machiavelli**_

"So you left Kathryn alone?" The Armani man asked.

"No," Sebastian replied smoothly.

The stranger scrunched his brows in confusion. "But I thought you said that you and Annette dated for two years."

"We did," Sebastian answered back. "But that doesn't mean she was the only one I was dating."

He huffed. "Kathryn never took me as the type to be second to anyone."

"And she refused to be, even then," he brooded, reminiscing about what seemed like a lifetime ago.

--

"Annette Hardgrove?!" She screamed at him, as he barely ducked the glass vase she threw in the direction of his head. Instead, Sebastian stayed in his place, thinking it best not to move any closer to her. He hadn't planned on her finding out so quickly of his recent development with Annette. Yet she had heard, and now she stood in his living room for the first time, looking utterly pissed. He had planned some words. When he first began dating Annette, he figured he'd rub it in her face – taunt her with the thought that she was no longer wanted. Then he read a little magazine article. When he found out that his new conquest was the writer of the infamous 'Seventeen magazine', he realized his disposition. He still wanted Kathryn, of course. He craved her every day he saw her precious charms wasted on that red-blooded loser she called her boyfriend.

However, he still had his pride.

Pride.

And his treasured journal to think about.

There was no way he would allow Annette to escape his grasp without proving her article was a fraud. So he decided to hide his relationship with Annette. In a way, it was Annette's fault for taking up much of his time. In the first weeks, he had been too busy learning of all of Annette's qualities. Words like pureness and virtue were brought up when he thought of Annette. Words that would usually made him sick but Annette had found a way to change their meaning to him. She had convinced him that being pure meant that she was a clean canvas for him to do his work and similarly, he was hers, to do her own work.

When she put it in words like those, he couldn't be more interested.

Even more interested by the fact that she challenged him in every shape and form. From literature to tennis matches, she never failed to make him feel like she was his equal. That was when he decided to make their intentions more public.

For her virginity, he kept telling himself --

And he didn't think Kathryn would care anymore.

She had ignored him for entire time she had known him, scarcely acknowledging his presence even when he was talking directly to her. He hadn't fought her or pushed any further for her attention, always hoping that the next time their conversation would go better. But the next conversation never happened. She disappeared from his life.

Looking up from his stepmother's favorite and now broken glass vase, he was pleased to see that Kathryn's anger had somewhat subsided. Even more pleased that she was angry to begin with. In some odd way it meant she actually cared about him. Taking a step closer to her, he paused again when he heard her words. "I guess you found your prima bella of righteous," she spitted, spewing to him the same words he had used to describe her. He couldn't just watch her walk towards the doorway.

Running over to her, he grabbed her arm. "She means nothing."

She snatched her arm away from his grasp. "Just like you mean to me."

"Kathryn," he sighed in aggravation. "You don't mean that. You know that if you were to give me a crumb of a chance I'd dump Annette in a second."

It was true. Kathryn meant more. Without a doubt she did so he paused to find the right words to tell her that. It was during his internal struggle that he noticed the diamond placed strategically on her left ring finger. They both looked down at the sparkling new ring, she so boldly wore in his house. He scoffed. "Apparently, you've decided that marriage is in your near prospect."

"It means nothing," she replied quickly, trying her best to subtly hide her hand in examination.

"Yes," he agreed grudgingly. "Those words are being used freely today."

She shook her head, backing away from him. "So I'm getting married," she yelled. "Why does this even matter at all? I barely know you."

And she was right.

She barely knew him at all – but he knew her. She had fundamentally changed his life and she didn't even know it. One small moment, she had probably forgotten about. When her words had meant more to him than anyone else's.

"Kathryn, wait," he yelled out behind her. He was sure the strain in his voice convinced her to stop. He was desperate. She had driven him to desperation. Never had he been forced to plea so much with a girl. He had tried every trick he knew, but he just couldn't get to her. He had one last trick. A story that he hoped would pull at every string in her body. "Do you remember your older cousin's debutante ball?"

Her brows scrunched in confusion. "Yes, but why –"

"You were thirteen," he interrupted, knowing what her question would be. "You were dressed up in the most adorable Ralph Lauren dress. You were wearing yellow and I could tell you obviously hated it."

She gazed uncomfortable. "How do you know that?"

"I was there," he continued. "You left the party before there was time to even present the girls. You went outside to smoke, odd behavior at the age of thirteen, but there you were, outside by yourself. You were so confident and poised. And I remembered thinking how amazing it was that you didn't care what others thought. I wanted to speak to you, but I didn't know what to say. You scared me, and I didn't want to embarrass myself so I just stood there. And then you looked up at me and said –"

"You don't ever have to be nervous with me," she finished, recognition written on her face.

He nodded. "It was the best thing that anyone had ever said to me."

"I remember," she said with as close to a smile as she would allow. "You didn't say anything back."

He shrugged. "I was intimidated. My whole life I was expected to be perfect and you were the first person who looked at me with no expectations. From that point on, I refused to do anything I didn't want to, because in my mind I knew there was at least one person out there, who wouldn't be judging me for it. The feeling was overbearing. I changed my whole life because of it. When I saw you on New Years, that feeling came rushing back all over again."

She looked away from him. "It's different now. This time you're the one who expects something from me."

"I don't think a relationship is too much to ask for," he flouted back.

"It is when I'm already promised to someone else," she hissed back. "If I wasn't engaged maybe–"

"Fuck maybe," he grumbled, as he engulfed her pink lips. It was bittersweet.

He just wished she would have told him that she was using him for revenge. It would have made the moment more bitter and less sweet. Then again, he was using her too--


	6. Needs Must When The Devil Drives

The Prince

IsabelleB.

Needs Must When The Devil Drives (Concerning The Way To Govern Cities Or Principalities Which Lived Under Their Own Laws Before They Were Annexed)

Summary: Sebastian was never an angel. Kathryn was never the devil.

Recap: In the present, Sebastian Valmont has met an inquisitive man that he has nicknamed 'the Armani man'. Sebastian grudgingly decides to share his whole life story with him. In Sebastian's retelling of his tell, we have just reached the part where Sebastian has chatted up our charming Kathryn Merteuil and has decided to win her at any cost. Even though, he knows she has a boyfriend. They have finally kissed but are both using each other. How is that, you might ask?

--

"**...A prince becomes poor and contemptible or, to escape poverty, becomes rapacious and hateful. Of all the things he must guard against, hatred and contempt come first, and liberality leads to both." – Machiavelli **

If flames could fumed from Sebastian's head --

The Armani man continued to laugh at his sad pathetic story and Sebastian was livid. "Have I said fuck you lately?" Sebastian hissed, rising his middle finger. "Because if I haven't, I've been meaning to."

The Armani man laughed harder. "Sorry, Sebastian. It's just – I never expected you to be the romantic type."

Sebastian instantly changed the mood when his eye got eerily sober. "I wasn't."

"Explain," the Armani urged, handing Sebastian another beer. "I mean, there must have been some reason that you waited. You knew about Kathryn for five years before that point."

Even with his judgement impaired, it angered Sebastian to talk about his feelings for Kathryn; even harder to talk of their time together before the animosity began to take over. Because even though he tried his hardest to win Kathryn over, his intentions for her had never really been pure. He knew about her from before. Like he said, he had met her when he was thirteen. He didn't know her name, or her family back then but he had always kept her in the back of his mind. It wasn't until he was pushed into a corner that the thought of Kathryn had resurfaced.

It was the reason he had come to New York.

The reason he refused to let go of Kathryn. The reason he had used Kathryn. And Annette.

"My family wasn't exactly confident in my future," Sebastian started. It was a long story and it all had to do with the Valmont name --

--

_Valmont, Come over to my house again and I'll cut your balls off._

– _Love Kathryn_

Sebastian frowned as he folded the note into his pocket.

"What's wrong, Valmont?" Blaine asked him.

She ignored him, Sebastian answered silently. His mood was so foul, he could barely process Blaine's question. He thought that kissing Kathryn would make life so simple. He thought she'd hear his bullshit story of the first time they met and it sweep her off her feet.

He was wrong.

As soon as he had kissed her, she ran off in the direction of his doors and didn't so much as answer his phone calls as he repeatedly called her. By the next week, he could hardly contain his anger. After a week of being ignored, he decided to make a quick trip to Kathryn's townhouse. He didn't plan to actually see her. In fact he hadn't even made his presence known. He parked his Jaguar across the street, and simply sat there. Secretly, he wondered which part of the multi-million dollar mansion was hers, and if Pierce Bush was there at that very moment to share it with her. After a couple of minutes of wishful thinking -- Maybe a glimpse of her ? -- he nostalgically turn his car on again and rode off. Little did he know at the time that Kathryn had been watching him the whole time, maybe even more ingrainedly than he had been.

He hadn't known until he opened his locker this morning to find the note that Kathryn had left him. By that point, all the scorning and scowling she had directed to him started to make sense.

"It's nothing," Sebastian replied back smoothly, hoping Blaine would drop the subject before he got the back end of his temper. A whole week, he thought to himself. For a whole fucking week, she hadn't talked to him. Even worse, she had downgraded her anger to a note.

"It can't simply be nothing," Blaine commented. "You're upset and there's a big vain pulsating on your forehead."

"I said it's nothing!" He yelled back. His mood was far beyond anger, far beyond frustration. He had never begged for a girl's attention before. He was above that. More so than that, he was Valmont. Everyone knew the Valmont family.

They were rich in art; rich in culture; rich in the french political system; rich in heritage; rich in real estate; rich in business – blah, blah, blah. Just plain rich. But as Sebastian sat in the school hallway brooding, he remember the one thing they weren't rich in.

They had failed to be rich in was heirs.

As the only son in Edward Valmont, Sebastian stood to inherit everything. That was, of course, until the family realized he was a fuck up. At the age thirteen, (and some would accredit Lauren's debutante ball as the start of his bad behavior) Sebastian had spoiled the family name. As a result, his grandfather had created a clause in his will. He still wanted to give Sebastian everything he owned but he required Sebastian Valmont to be married before inheriting his family's large endowment.

Sebastian's grandfather was cremated with pure hate in everyone's eyes, to say the least.

The family was outraged. No one had the authority to touch the money, except Sebastian. Not his father, or uncles or half-wit cousins. It was his or bust. That made Sebastian a very powerful man. It was Sebastian's personal responsibility to allocate the funds to the rest of the family as he saw fit. He had the power to give money to, or take lands from any other member of the family. He had power to do as he pleased, pending the enormous detail that he be married first.

Yes, it is not a misconception. He had to get married, first.

And with that very important detail in mind, the Valmont family had taken a large interest in Sebastian's social life. They had tried to fix him up with more girls than even he had the stamina for. They would introduce a girl to him. Of course, he took advantage of their gold digging tendency to spread what he had already deemed as their widely open legs. Many respectable girls had ruined their reputations trying to possess him. The line of prospects had shortened. He had gone through every pretty family friend, and debutante in all of France. No one seem to have caught his attention.

The more girls he bedded the less interested he was in getting married. Truth be told, even if he had found a suitable girl he wouldn't have gotten married. He was only eighteen, though that detail didn't carry much weight with his family. The second reason was that his father was forced to work to make a living. His father hated working and Sebastian loved forcing him to go to work. It kept his father clear from his mother's path.

That was until his mother died.

Cancer. His mother's departure was so sudden. Sebastian had never expressed love to anyone but if he had, it would have been to his mother. She had took care of him– defended his actions even when he didn't deserved to be defended. He respected her for that, even though she was a incompetent drug addict. It was the reason he chose to be with her until the end. On her death bed, she had asked of one thing from him.

She wanted him to get married.

That was when his thoughts traveled onto a girl he had met five years ago. A girl who with just a few words had fundamental changed who he was. It made him think that she could do a lot more for him. With that very thought, he booked himself a first class tickets to New York on a quest to find her. His father and new stepmother insisted that they followed.

So there you had it. He was no angel at all. And as Blaine waited patiently for him to confess his love woes, he felt sorry for the guy who thought he had actually grown some feelings. He was cold, calculated, and manipulative. He had plans, and the part in which he was nice had ended.

As Annette walked down the hall to greet him, he was ready to flip the switch on these idiots.

And they never saw what was coming--


End file.
